


By Day One Way, By Night Another

by Fiercest



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character turns into a dog, Fluff, M/M, Magical Realism, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Heartbreaker Katsuki Yuuri, Post-Grand Prix Final, Protect Viktor Nikiforov at all costs, True Love's Kiss, Yuuri turns into a dog, fairytale, twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: By All logic, it should be impossible. Katsuki Yuuri is staring into a mirror and a toy poodle is staring back. He thinks he must be dreaming, but he is centred and present in a way he never is in dreams.Behind him the elevator dings, the doors open and Viktor Nikiforov steps out.After the Grand Prix Final, Viktor has no choice but to fill the hole in his heart left by the beautiful Japanese skater... with a new puppy.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	By Day One Way, By Night Another

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is like... a thing in YOI fandom, but I think I can shake this up a little ;) 
> 
> Make sure you brush your teeth after, otherwise you'll get cavities!

Yuuri startles awake when he hears a distant door slam. His head is pounding from the ill-advised drunken mess he’d made last night at the GPF banquet but he’s not at the point where he wants to stick his head in a toilet. Yet. He just wants to go back to sleep but he _can’t_. He’s awake now and fucking whyyyyyyy. Some people at this hotel have absolutely no respect, slamming doors at—he opens his eyes and blinks at the clock on the mantle— _ugh it’s already 10:30am._

Last night, before the banquet he’d rerouted his flight to Japan instead of the US. He told Celestino he wouldn’t be going back with him; that he just needed a little break. He put up some token protests, but in the end, even Celestino probably thought that was best after the embarrassment Yuuri had brought upon them all with his free skate. He wouldn’t be coming by to wake him up. They wouldn’t share a cab to the airport. Yuuri’s new flight leaves tonight.

What should he do for the rest of the day? Lying here and wallowing would be his preferred strategy, but probably not the healthiest. He should call Mari and his parents to tell them he’ll be home soon. He should explain to Phichit.

Everything hurts as he rolls onto his stomach and crawls to the edge of the bed. He tries to get out normally but falls with a painful _oof_. Everything feels too big and too loud. He looks around the room from his spot on the floor. His stuff is all packed except for his toothbrush and- he feels a breeze—maybe his pajamas are packed after all. He should get dressed and eat something. A lot of somethings. Slathered in maple syrup and piled with bacon.

Suddenly, his door swings open and a maid bustles in, pulling her cleaning cart behind her. Oh no. _Oh no oh no oh no._ He missed checkout. And he’s naked. He tries to scramble to his feet but can’t. Why can’t he get off his hands and…? Not his knees.

The maid turns around and gasps in shock. She and Yuuri stare at each other in mounting confusion and horror, respectively. Then, she does something very unexpected. Instead of shrieking at the naked Japanese man, she coos in Russian, “Hi there sweetheart, what are you doing here by yourself?” He’s… heard similar lines in porn before but the way she says it is extremely confusing and he kind of can’t believe a middle aged Russian lady is saying it to him in baby-voice. She reaches out to him and he panics, bolting for the door. He manages to squeeze through the tiny space between the cart and the wall (HOW?!) and bolts down the hallway, towards the elevators.

He’s running on instinct now, dashing on all fours. The wall opposite the elevators is all mirror; he catches a glimpse and freezes.

_Vicchan._

Except it’s not. _It’s not_. By All logic, it should be impossible. Vicchan is dead and Katsuki Yuuri is staring into a mirror and a toy poodle is staring back. He does not know how. He does not know why. All he knows is that he has no memory of last night, no ability to speak and his eyes cannot be deceiving him.

He thinks he must be dreaming, but he is centered and present in a way he never is in dreams.

Behind him the elevator dings, the doors open and Viktor Nikiforov steps out. The moment he spots Yuuri he _squeals_ and throws himself at his feet. “Hi! Hello! Hi! Who are you? You’re so precious!” Yuuri’s Russian is pretty good, he has his linguistics minor to thank for that, but Viktor starts speaking too fast for him to keep up.

And Viktor Nikiforov is patting his head and scratching behind his ears and seconds later, rubbing his belly…oh, when did he get on his back?

“I was,” says Viktor, “I was coming to meet a friend…”

Yuuri kicks out a leg and a delicious shiver runs down his spine, he’s not really listening.

“I guess I’ll just call him. I don’t even know if he’s awake yet. I shouldn’t presume.” He says to himself, before shifting his focus back to Yuuri. “You don’t have a,” and then Viktor says something that Yuuri thinks must mean ‘collar’ because Viktor touches his neck. Oh my god Viktor is touching his neck. “So you don’t belong to anybody.” And he looks so _sad_ as he says it. Big, dark eyes stare into big, wet blue ones and all Yuuri wants is for Viktor to smile. His instincts take over. He leaps into Viktor’s arms (the one place he’s always wanted to be) and licks his face. _I’m yours I’m yours I belong to you_. His heart sings and it’s in the same key as Viktor’s laugh. “You could belong to me if you want,” whispers Viktor, answering the call.

Yuuri ceases questioning and for once in his life, decides to live in the moment.

.

.

Viktor brings Yuuri back to his hotel room (his hotel room!) and spends the next hour on the phone. The first call he makes, nobody picks up and he tries to leave a message. “Hello!” he exclaims in English. “I uh, I had a wonderful time last night. That was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time and I was hoping you would-“ He looks at Yuuri and presses the pound key to rerecord the message, “Hi! You’re a wonderful dancer. Last night you changed my life,” pound key again, “Hi, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. It’s Viktor… by the way-“

Yuuri never could have imagined Viktor this way; flustered, blushing and agitated. _Pining._ Whoever is on the other end of that voicemail is so lucky. They’re the luckiest person in the whole wide world. Yuuri hates-loves this person for making Viktor smile so wide and heart shaped that his cheeks redden and eyes squint. God, he wishes that were him.

Yuuri whines and lays his head on his paws.

Viktor smiles down at him sweetly, his shoulders relax and the phone drops from his ear.

_“Message saved.”_

“Shit, shit!”

.

.

It decided very quickly and without Yuuri’s consent, that they will fly to St-Petersburg that very evening. Viktor’s next few calls after three more increasingly ludicrous voicemails, are to Aeroflot, Utair and Nordavia respectively. Aeroflot is willing to allow Viktor to carry Yuuri in his lap, instead of stowing him in a crate down below so even though it pains them both, that’s the airline Viktor chooses.

By the time it occurs to Yuuri that he will be sitting in Viktor Nikiforov’s lap for upwards of three and a half hours, he doesn’t have the energy to freak out. How can he when Viktor has annoyingly, insistently, incredibly, sweetly, scooped him up and held him against his hard, muscly, scrumptious chest and petted his little head.

Yuuri used to fantasize about Viktor Nikiforov running his hands through his hair. Even though this is a worse realization of that fantasy than he could have ever come up with, it still somehow lives up to the hype… _He is a sad, pathetic man._

Maybe if Yuuri didn’t freak out, this problem wouldn’t have arisen. Viktor had somehow come to the conclusion that the best way to comfort a panicked puppy was to hold him in his arms, coo comforting words, touch him all over and give him all his love and attention.

He’s _right,_ but STILL.

Yuuri is _past_ freaking out.

.

.

By the end of the flight, Yuuri’s nerves have reached critical fraying. When the seatbelt sign chimes back on, signalling the landing, Yuuri deflates with relief and allows himself to relax into Viktor’s blanket-covered thighs.

.

.

It’s too late when it occurs to Yuuri that he should have sucked it up and peed outside with Makkachin. It’s not like he can manage the toilet right now. It would be just Yuuri’s luck to try, fall inside the bowl and drown.

 _Think._ He orders himself.

There’s a palm plant across the room. That’ll work! He bounds across the room with some relief, only to discover, with crushing disappointment that the plant is actually made of plastic. It makes sense. Viktor must not spend much time at home.

The problem remains. And the more he thinks about it, the more he has to go.

If Phichit could see him now; naked and furry in his idol’s home, desperate to pee anywhere but the hardwood. It’s a grim thought.

But one that leads to salvation nonetheless.

Thinking of Phichit reminds him of a recurring argument they’d get into from time to time: peeing in the shower.

He’d argued the con, but he could see the necessity of it now. _This is an emergency, I am not a hypocrite!_

Yuuri high tails it to the bathroom and the door is blessedly open. The next problem that presents itself is how to make it into the tub. He is not a large dog, Viktor mistook him for a puppy, not a toy poodle. Right on cue, his saviour arrives with a flick of her tail.

She bows like she’s playing, leaps from side to side, then settles with her head on her front paws. Yuuri could cry. _Thank you_ , he barks and hopes she understands. Gently, he climbs on her back and staggers a bit when she stands. With a little wiggle, he takes a deep breath and hops into the tub. It’s harder than landing a quad.

He tries lifting a hind leg, but stumbles. He tries again, but can’t seem to find the proper balance, so he squats over the drain.

Relief is immediate.

On to the next problem.

Yuuri glares at the faucet and does his best approximation of a growl. With each leap he yips in exertion. Then his worst nightmare: Viktor trots into the bathroom and sees him standing in a puddle of his own urine, splashing around as he tries desperately to turn on the tap and wash it all away.

Then, a nightmare worse still: he laughs. And laughs. “Puppyyyyy~ You’re a genius!” he lifts him up gently and tucks him under his arm like a ball then switches on the tap. He grabs a washcloth from the towel rack and wets it before sitting on the edge of the tub and gently cleaning Yuuri’s paws.

Yuuri can’t help but stare. He’s so kind and patient. And so very beautiful. Viktor murmurs adoration and validation, Yuuri’s little heart flutters and he feels the best kind of tingles, down to his toes.

“Did your big sister help you? Good Makka!” He holds Yuuri out to boop his and Makkachin’s noses together. She licks his face and Yuuri feels so very loved. If this were his life from now on, would it be so bad?

.

.

It’s 10pm and Viktor is apparently geriatric, because he’s getting ready for bed.

Watching his idol go through a 14 step skincare routine is certainly more of a turn on than he expected. Yuuri only becomes aware that he’s staring when Viktor sits on the toilet lit and pats his lap. “Come!”

Yuuri stares some more.

“Yurotchka. Come!”

Yuuri looks around, then blinks. _Who? Me?_

“Do you not like that name?” Viktor looks so sad, Yuuri can’t bear it. He barks and makes certain to wag his tail as happily as he can. This certainly isn’t how he imagined his idol calling his name for the first time, but at least now he knows it.

Yuuri puts his paws on Viktor’s knees. He has to help him the rest of the way up into his lap.

“So you do like it!” Viktor kisses the top of Yuuri’s head and _heaven…just heaven._ “It will be especially fun when Yura visits. We’ll have to come up with a new nickname for him! Yes we will!”

Viktor pets his head for a while, then it’s time for bed. He carries Yuuri to bed with him.

Watching a champion go through his end-of-day stretches is surreal and at every groan and pop of his joints, Yuuri winces. The rest of the veneer of perfection melts away and what’s left is the full view of the sad man Yuuri has caught glimpses of all day.

 _He looks so small_ , Yuuri thinks, watching him curl up on his side, an open space for another person beside him. He feels a certain guilt. Probably no one has ever seen this side of him before, alone with his dogs and his own thoughts.

Yuuri waits for Viktor to fall asleep before hopping off the bed. It doesn’t feel right to share Viktor’s bed under false pretenses. It’s something right out of his adolescent dreams, but not like this. He feels like a voyeur.

He’s settled on the couch in the living room for less than a minute before Makkachin strolls up to him, opens he big jaws, clamps them around his little body and lifts. Yuuri panics. The noises he makes are puppy squeaks and whines that he remembers Vicchan making when he was locked out of rooms or when Yuuri wouldn’t let him say hello to every dog they passed on the street.

When she passes back into Viktor’s room, Yuuri shuts up. He doesn’t want to wake him. Makkachin boofs and jumps on the bed, drops him onto the mattress and curls up beside the sleeping Viktor. She reaches her big paw out and pushes down on his back. Yuuri can take a hint. He curls up beside Makka and before he knows it, he’s fallen asleep.

.

.

Yuuri wakes up very cold and disoriented. He had been having the weirdest dream, but he can’t quite remember it. At least his alarm hasn’t gone off, so he’s got some time before he needs to get ready to check out. Room in his schedule for wallowing over the final and missing his chance to meet Viktor.

_Viktor!_

Yuuri shoots up in bed and four things become very clear to him:

  1. He is not in his hotel room.
  2. There’s someone in bed with him.
  3. That someone is Viktor Nikiforov.
  4. He is completely naked.




End file.
